Safety Christmas!!!

Hello you little fucking Elves!

This Christmas I would like to remind you all of the real reason we celebrate each year....safety.

This time of year the telly is filled with advertising campaigns deterring us from pretty much everything, from drink driving, Icy roads, Loan sharks and even leaving a Christmas night light on for your sprog. “Do you want to melt your first born child’s face off? Well do you?” The reason not to do these things can become lost in all the excitement of receiving the new Hollyoaks calendar and rubbing one out over your favourite McQueen sister, but least we forget, a minute of fun could lead to a lifetime of misery. This is why I have assembled my top ten tips for staying safe this Yuletide season. Please enjoy and remember..................

A Safe Christmas is a Happy Christmas! X

10. When buying a new Hunting knife for your cousin or younger brother, use the unemployedazoid scale of Age to Inch... for example 4 year old cousin Timmy can have a 4inch blade. 11 year old younger brother Andrew can have a small machete, but your sisters new born will have to wait as anything under 2inches just aint worth it hey ladies!? Haha aah knives.

9. When lighting the pudding try not to point the lighter and can of lynx directly at grannies face, besides upsetting her you might burn off her whole boat.

8. Putting up Xmas lights? “Not on that rickety old ladder you're not! Now put on these stilts clumsy!”

7. Try to avoid evil thoughts like punching babies in the face or shitting in the middle of the living room during the Queens speech, these things will almost certainly put a downer on the day for everyone else. Not to mention the health risks.

6. Remember Christmas 91’ that game of charades when you did Karate Kid? Aunty Brenda still hasn’t got the sight back in her right eye so pick a film with less movement, Schindlers List maybe or Glitter.

5. Dressing as ‘Old Saint Nick’ is a great disguise for paedophiles so make sure to ask in a clear and loud voice before letting young Suzy sit on his lap, “ARE YOU A PAEDOPHILE.” If the answer is yes, stay and supervise to assure there is no funny business.

4. Christmas is a time for all, even the Taliban like a slice of turkey! However if you do have any Muslim extremist friends over do ask them to kindly leave their bombs at home. Contrary to popular belief bombs are quite dangerous.

3. Drink responsibly, however if you can’t manage this when you are completely fucking smashed try your very best not to die.

2. Any board game can get competitive but violence never solves anything....... Apart from who is overall winner so if necessary get tooled up.

1. Dads, if you insist on dressing up as Father Christmas don’t forget to tell the wife. There is little more traumatising for the kids than waking up to see Daddy being beaten to within an inch of his life by Mummy with a teefal wok. Not only will it hurt but your kids will think you're an utter pussy for getting beaten up by a girl.

So there you have it, I hope these wise perls help you over this difficult time. If you found them useless then I hope you choke on a sprout.

Zoid. x

Mark Durden Smith... (Demon Spawn)

Mark Durden Smith

Twat Update.

Who the fuck does this absolute tit rag think he is!? Get off my telly you snooty overgrown quire boy before I ring your mother and tell her what a naughty bastard you’ve been.

Really does anyone actually like this wanker? He’s so condescending each time he appears on my goggle box I feel like I’ve been pulled over by police for a traffic offence, and it brings the same kind of dread. How can this antichrist have fallen from such a beacon of hope as his wonderful mother Judith Chalmers? Sweet Judith showing us all the holiday destinations we’ll never see with a friendly “wish you were here!” It’s like the British version of devil’s advocate but at least in that Keanu Reeves didn’t want to be the son of Beelzebub. Mark seems more than happy to bath in tubs of demon semen until his eyes glow red and he grows trotters. I keep half expecting “This Morning” to come back from commercials to show a satanic ritual of him sacrificing Holly Willoghby to his dad. Is she naked and strung up..... possibly..... I imagine so... makes sense. Anyway if that did happen Gino D'acampo would pull out his crucifix shaped Italian love truncheon and fuck Markelzebub back to hell while Phillip cowered in the corner like a little scared kitten, I’m sure of that.


Oh yeah and Kerry Katona can fuck right off too.

MORE LIKE RIP OFF YOUR CLOTHES BRITAIN!!!!

PHWOOAAARRR!!

The Unemploidazoid 2 (Return of the Slack)

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I'm Engaged!!!

Ok,

So I’ve been back at work now for a while, back doing what God intended for me and making sure people have personal accident, legal and breakdown cover on their car insurance policies. “Oh you don’t have PA cover Mrs Jones? Did you know your kids aren’t covered if they're injured in an accident?” If unable to use sex to sell, go with guilt.

Much as it is difficult for me to drag myself away from the next inevitable beep that will introduce me to another motorist in desperate need of my help, even the Lord himself needs to lay some cable now and again. To be honest a dump at work is something of a blessing from above, even if that above is just above my sphincter. Let’s get it right I hate my job, any excuse to take off that retarded headset and retire for a moment from those faceless voices is fine with me. In fact if I came in one morning and was greeted buy my boss saying “morning James got a choice for you today you can either work as normal on the phones or you can take an 8 hour dump, what’ll it be?” I’d probably grab a paper and hit the bogs. Unfortunately this has never and probably will never happen so my toilet trip today will be the highlight; I’ll take my phone maybe fire off a few texts and earn a penny while spending one. At work there is no men’s toilet on the floor I work on so I have the choice of going up or down, Judging on what time of day it is I may try to work out which will smell less of rancid shit and go with that.

So arriving in the toilet it’s empty and silent, a blessed utopia of calm, the automatic air freshener dispenses a whiff of floral delight as if it’s been expecting me. I take my usual cubical and there’s not even a speck of piss on the seat.....bliss. I Drop trousers and relax.

Now I’m midway through the match and miles away from the shitty world of Hastings Direct rip-off car insurance when to my horror some utter cunt goes and tries the door!? I’m shocked upright on my throne and sit in disbelief as this fucking bumtard has the nerve to try it a second time, and then a third!!? “Someone in here!” I felt obliged to shout. For Christ sake there is a red engaged sign on the door that clearly means a bloke is in this toilet? He might be having a crap, he could be treating himself to a sit-down piss, and he might even be bashing one out. Any of these sacred rituals has now been ruined buy this selfish door shoving horrid inpatient scrotum of a man. To add insult to this I then hear this arse-piece promptly turn and walk out the door!? I can only hope that on his way home he decides to ignore a red traffic man when crossing the road and is sent flying through the air landing on his stupid poo interrupting head smashing it to bits. I now have to go back to work with this complete twat-faced door rattler messing up my whole day as if working in telesales wasn’t bad enough, thanks mate thanks very much.

Zoid.

Look at me mummy!

Alright skid marks!

I gone and got meself one dem new fangled laptops I av, so as I might put up some more blogs soon bout all the funny things I do and see.

speak soon nobody. x

Hook Line and Sinker

Afternoon,

My mum swears by these omega 3 fish tablets, she told me they are good for my brain but all I've noticed really is a slight fishy taste in my mouth If I burp after taking one? Maybe I just haven't been taking enough of them but I can only imagine If they became a habit I'd just smell like a fishmonger, all be it a fishmonger with a good brain. Which makes me wonder if there is an underground world of super genius people that wont dare come to the surface for fear of being mocked for their fishy breath. Who knows they might be planing an attack as I write. Is it that crazy to think that Stephen Hawkins fella is their leader and head spy, and he only gets away with it cos he speaks through a computer? I mean can anyone actually vouch for smelling Stephens breath? And that wheelchair reeks of "I was raised in an underground maze of sewer pipes" does it not? I could be wrong but it makes you think dunit?

Bit fishy.

ID

Hands up who likes my new ID card! I hadn't even rehearsed my best Paedophile/serial killer face it just came out better than I could have ever dreamed.

EMPLOYEDAZOID?

Long time no see!?

So I have a new job.... Well actually it's my old job at a new place with the same old faces but still, I'm back in the game.

Looking back a month on the slightly altered state I found myself in I have to wonder why I decided that buying a suit and trying to get a real career was ever a good Idea. At the time it was the only thing that occurred to me that might sort things out. It appeared in my mind spelt out like a retarded neon checklist.

Step 1. Haircut and Buy Suit

So every business man needs a suit of course, though not having any cash to buy one meant persuading my dad that I needed one to get my career off to a good start. That good start being £140 in debt to my dad for a suite. The length of sleeve was a real ball ache as I've never really bought a suite before and felt a bit strange in any kind of fit. I settled on a nice pinstripe black number from Debanhams and was ready for the boardroom. I had my hair cut like Patrick Bateman from American phyco to finish off the look.

Step 2. Find Career

Looking on job finding websites it can make you wonder why anyone is unemployed? In business there seems to be a huge amount of jobs on offer, unfortunately only a select few of which I am qualified to do. I selected my new career in business mainly by annual salary I figured if it was around 18k a year I might as well chuck em a CV and see what happens. Sure enough my juicy job bait had a possible employer twitching my job rod ready for me to reel in my future in no time.

Step 3. Start Career

Ok here is where the mist began to clear. I managed to get an interview with a large recruitment agency in Brighton..... you know 'recruitment' that job I've always wanted to do since I was a little boy when i pretended to get my school friends jobs like 'head woodlice counter' and 'assistant pog manager'? My dream job in that dream I don't remember.

It was a fucking hot day when I turned up for my interview and the new black suit felt like it was smothering me like some industrial corporate cling film. As I stood in the lift I could feel my hands getting more and more clammy. I imagined shaking hands and giving the impression that I'd just given myself an oily hand job on the way up sweating like a fat bloke chasing a pig. In short my head was not in the game. I looked at the fit receptionist and wondered if she fancied me in my new suit, knowing in reality after I'd had a shave I looked more like one of the gimpy ones from the junior apprentice covered in Vaseline. As I sat down to wait my 20 quid shitty old phone covered in skateboard stickers fell out of my pocket and smashed on the floor next to who I presume might have been my competition for the roll. I bent down to collect the bits feeling my suit jacket sleeves ride up my forearms thinking to myself I should have got the longer sleeved jacket and clocked my competitions I-Phone on her lap as I got back up. If this interview was going to be in anyway based on who has the coolest phone I am fucked I thought.

After reassembling my phone I was greeted by a blond fella called Mark or Luke or something who told me to go through to this office and that he and Andrew or John or something would be conducting my interview that day. So as I waited it started to dawn on me that I knew completely tits all about recruitment and the thought of doing the job made me feel as excited as waiting for a delayed train. Handling a question like"why recruitment?" with this running through your head is a tricky task. Still I sucked it up and gave it my best, that turning out to be telling them I really wanted the job as many times as I could and hoping my clammy palms might dry up enough in time for the leaving hand shakes. I realise now I am not cut out for a suit and tie job and I never was. My optimism of a gleaming new career in business went down with me in the lift and out into the hot Brighton sun where it shriveled up and died.

Then good old telesales came to the rescue, A job that I can do with minimal effort so I can concentrate on the more important things like Rap Music.

Lesley Joseph

yeah I have a question for you Lesley, why are you such a Bastard?

Loose Women

Today on Loose Women these topics were discussed.

Do you wear all your clothes all the time or do you keep some for "best"? Wedding Cakes and

comparing pregnancies.2 ten year old boys raping an 8 year old girl. Then 60's model Twiggy came on and they all kissed her arse for a bit.

Keep up the good work gals!! x

Facebook or Weights?

Oh it's you again,

So this not having a job malarkey is all well and good but there is a down side to all this free time, mainly filling it with things that don't involve money. Facebook is a horrid thing when you have too much time on your hands, for example normally when asked to look over someones holiday photos the first thought that might enter your mind would be "no fuck off it's boring and I wasn't there so I don't care". Yet when faced with some downtime between wanks, breezing through someones snaps of their latest getaway somehow seems like a good idea. It's not of course as it may remind you that while not having a job you'll just spend your time becoming some twisted voyeur of other peoples lives, never being able to actually afford to do anything even slightly eventful yourself. A bit like that Robin Williams film where he goes all mad obsessing over some happy family, not TOYS. This will all come about too quickly and before you know it you'll be weeping onto a soggy chicken and mushroom slice that's become as cold as your worthless heart because the caption reads (It was so hot the water park was perfect). Besides this you may slip into looking over your own pictures more than you ever would if they were in a dusty album shoved in some draw. "Oh look I can instantly visit that time when I was having a really great time doing good stuff" before you know it you need to have another wank to squeeze out a few seconds of fluidy joy, then maybe a nap.

Of course there are other activities for the unemployed, some could even go towards bettering yourself. I for instance decided to pick up the old weights to thrash out some pent up aggression, fuck warm ups they're for pussies I'll just bust out some sweet reps and get all tonk that'll teach everyone, I can hear them now;

"Is that Unemploydazoid?"

"yeah I think so"

"woah he got big!"

"yeah he looks like he could kick someones head in"

"does he have a job yet?"

"who cares look how big he is!"

"yeah he is pretty tonk"

Trouble is I only did a bit yesterday and now my arms feel like I've tossed off an army of elephants. Anyway I don't need to be built like a gladiator to sit playing facebook poker for imaginary money, $85,000 imaginary dollars and rising thank you very much.

So yeah, stay tuned for more pointless shit you can do if your lucky enough to lose your job.

TOP TEN

Yes,

we are now nearly half way through the year and if you asked me what kind of year it's been I'd say I've had shitter but it's not over yet. Here is a list of the top 10 shitty things that have happened in the first 6 months of 2010.

1 Lost all freelance work in the job I've been trying to progress in since my early twenties but seem unable to.

2 Bought a network rail card (fucking useless)

3 Lost £80 on rail ticket bought for excellent festival I was supposed to be playing but got canceled. No refunds given.

4 had an oyster.

5 Politics, Idiots, Election.

6 Got a job I thought I'd hate, turned out to be quite good at it just in time for the company to go into liquidation, still owed £750.

7 Littlehampton give go ahead to the construction of Europe's longest bench. (see above)

8 Extraction of black death tooth needed but must go on NHS Dental waiting list. A waiting list for pain that I have to pay for.

9 Signed on Jobseekers twice.

10 On long break with beautiful Girlfriend for being an utter loser.

This is definitely the worst post on this blog, so if you've read it feel free to add that to your top 10 of shitty stuff you've had happen to you in the first 6 months of 2010. Quickly though, you only have a couple of weeks left.

Expensive Tastes?

I like food, the other day I tried an oyster for the first time with my mate Tom. We had one each which came to £4.70, I gave the waitress a £5 note and said cheers don't worry about change. "Oh thanks, big spender!" came her response in a sarcastic tone. Maybe I should have informed her that I was a 27 year old unemployed man that lives with his parents, and even the fact I was wasting my money on her shells full of grim sea slop was a fucking miracle. I could have got a pint and some peanuts for that, or 4.7 Iceland Kebab pizzas (see above). Besides that oysters are pretty rank, maybe she expected more money for the advise she gave me to add a squeeze of lemon and chew it three times then swallow. Without that I may have stuck the lemon slice up my nose thrown the oyster over my shoulder and tried to forcibly insert the shell into my japs eye. Thanks.

Surprized by my own Stupidity.

Bonjour,

On my last stint in the Doll Que I used to fill out my application diary like a good little job seeker, 3 jobs a week to keep them happy. However one application I failed to make a record of, because it was possibly one of the most retarded things I have ever done. On my daily job search on the Internet I came across an add which stated "you can earn £350 a day reviewing websites!" I thought this sounded like a marvelous idea as I wouldn't even need to leave the computer let alone my house. I applied via e-mail to the address provided and received a very quick response informing me the websites I would need to review were of the Adult variety. Being quite a fan of porn in general this seemed like just another perk to an already super position.

I would be the Johnathan Ross of smut and my opinions would be read by porn enthusiasts far and wide. Continuing in my application the reply told me to go to one of the websites and subscribe for a "free" 3 day trial, write a review of my thoughts of the bone jumping on offer and submit it for their approval. Now at the point of typing in my debit card details, being that I was already unemployed and more skint than a tramp, alarm bells should have rung. Instead dreams of receiving awards for my gripping review of teeniespunkslurpers.com were too strong to overcome. On completion the online form I was bombarded with pop-ups for other sites and as my screen filled the thoughts faded until I was left with one. "what the fuck did I do that for?"

I had been done up like a kipper, a kipper with dreams of making £350 a week from reviewing people bumping uglies. As you can guess my account was soon robbed of the pitants within it and I had to go to the bank to explain what had happened. This was very frustrating being that they asked me all kinds of questions. As it turns out if you give over your card details it's not actually fraud? I know who'd thought it!? So after much skimming round the fact I had given my details on the promise of being paid to look at porn I settled with telling them my details had been stolen, just in time for the Hustlers to take all of my hard earned benefits out of my account. Of course I told the bank I wouldn't try to claim it back as I was sure I'd be hired for a new job soon, guarding a leprechauns pot of gold at the end of a fucking rainbow.

Felling Glum?

Greetings,

Feeling glum is terrible. I've felt quite glum for the past week or so, I'd say about an 8 out of 10 on the glumometer. There must be an end to this glumness soon otherwise I may stay glum forever, just imagine being in a state of uberglumness for all time? Of course I wont do that as it wouldn't be at all fun which is why I am going to become an estate agent instead.

The Jobseeker.

Hello.

I hated allot of the job's that I've done in the past, I once picked peppers for one and a half days. I only stayed the extra half a day to see if i could get anymore enjoyment out of the motorised trolly I scooted up and down the endless ailes of pepper plants on. I couldn't. It was hotter than Africa in that massive green house with a local radio station Spirit FM dripping out of some speakers like a rancid guff. But still at least there I new where I stood, be it not for very long.

So now for I think the 5th or 6th time I am again a "Jobseeker". Seeking out jobs wherever I rome... wait was that a job..... oh no it's just a rug. It's essential to stay alert as a jobseeker, you must also have skills in code breaking for the ones with power may test you.

The picture above is part of the letter I was sent by the all powerful Employatron aka Job Centre. It gives no explanation to why they don't want to give me money for my seeking this time but is very confusing being that they mention the same dates over and over...

I must now ring them for clues, a bit like Tom Hanks in the Devinci code but shitter.

When I had my back to unemployment interview on Monday the woman next to me was getting so much praise for attending a hairdressers course I felt like punching myself in the face and seeing what kind of verbal pat on the back that might get me. It's not that I feel above these people in any way but they are using up all the benefits for those of us that are completely capable of having jobs, we just don't like the ones we've had. To be honest finding a job worth doing through the job centre is about as likely as shitting a silver tea set without getting a bloody arse. My mate did a local job search on the "fisher price my first job touch screen computer" they have in all these hell holes now, and it brought up a tarot card reader in Manchester? Qualifications needed? Well I imagine seeing the future to be one, which is why I wont be booking the magabus.

Bike For Sale!

Alright?

I got this bike for sale cos I got no job and no money, I bought it when I had loads of money that I used to steal from an old job I had. It's Purple and has a flat tyre and I put a load of skateboard stickers on it. Also what is up with that saddle? The original Raleigh Chopper saddle was fine why did they change it? Plus it has gears which are rubbish.

any takers?

In the begining there was football.

Morning.

When I was about 14 I joined a local youth football team called Rustington Park Youth. Our best player was a striker that was almost completely deaf, and we all used to take the piss out of him because he had a funny voice that sounded like he had eaten a load of bees. Saying that, he was still ten times better than all of us put together. One Sunday we had a match against Wick Dynamos, this team was made up of pretty much all the lads at school that thought I was a total prick so I new I was in for a kicking. By this time our team was on a loosing run of about 8 games so winning was not top of the agenda, however being informed by our manager I would be playing up front I wanted nothing more than to score against my sworn enemies.

As I took to the pitch my Dad had come to watch and on the odd occasion I'd hear him shouting some generic football instructions at me of which I was too busy dodging two footed career enders to take any notice of. Coming off at half time my Dad told me I could have had about 6 penalties if I'd gone down in the box and that if they come at me again to take the fall and get the penalty.

At 90mins I hadn't fallen once, take that fuckers!

The score was Wick Dynamos 8 - Rustington Park Youth 0

I cant help but relate this to my job situation, I'd rather not go down. I suppose that's why I'm not a footballer.